


we won't (pass this way again)

by bessemerprocess



Series: Going to London [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Episode: s08e23-24 Hit and Run, Gen, Returing From the Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bessemerprocess/pseuds/bessemerprocess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock asks for a favor from someone who knows what it's like to return from the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we won't (pass this way again)

It’s crisp outside, summer falling away to turning leaves and cool breezes. Still, Emily sits outside, sipping her coffee and watching London walk by. The city is bustling, but the voices and sounds are just different enough that it doesn’t remind her of D.C. not unless she allows the walls to slip.

Keep everything compartmentalized and don’t over think anything, those are her words to live by, and so she profiles people as they wander by. Stockbrokers and art students, a man with his mistress, a teenager skipping out on school. People are ever people, she thinks.

“Not a visitor this time, nor fleeing from pursuit.” She almost doesn’t recognize the speaker at first, not surprisingly both because he is supposed to be dead and buried, and because Sherlock Holmes has always been good at disguising himself.

“Not this time,” she says, and waves him into the seat across from her. “Good to see you.”

“Congratulations on the promotion, and for restraining yourself. Most people can’t help but point out that I am dead.” Sherlock waves a waitress over and orders himself tea, not waiting for her answer.

Once the girl is gone, Emily turns back to him, and says, “I was dead once, too.” It’s one of those days when the thought of grave dirt and wilting funeral bouquets haunt her, and sometimes she likes to indulge in melancholy.

“And just like you, I am about to make a miraculous recovery. I am ready to be alive again,” Sherlock says with a flourish of his hand. He is as he was the last time she saw him in person, and not at all like the photos that leaked out of his mangled corpse. She’s seen people jump from roofs before, and most of them don’t sit scarless in London cafes twelve months later.

She’s feeling philosophical, and this is Sherlock after all. “You can come back from the dead, it’s true, but being alive again is a different thing.” Emily been thinking that thought ever since she walked back into the BAU, and if anyone is going to be able to use that knowledge, it is him,

Sherlock looks at her, taking in her hands and face, observing, profiling. “I can see,” he says.

“I suppose you can,” she says, even as she is sure that no matter what he sees, he doesn’t understand, not really.

He give her a sly smile, brushing off her concern. “Life is life, and there are mysteries to solve.” His eyes look alive at that.

“And people to go back to,” Emily replies, keeping her face still and neutral.

He tilts his head, and she wonders what his ever spinning brain is thinking this time. In the end, he simply replies, “Yes.”

“It won’t be the same.”

“It never is.”

This time she’s the one who looks at him, noticing the slight wear on his shirt cuff, the wildness of his hair, not done for effect, but from running his hand through it, the hint of dark circles under his eyes.

“You’ve come for a favor,” she says finally.

“I have,” he says.

“I am going to play a role in this miraculous recovery of yours.” Emily was always going to help him. They’d both known that before she’d even known he was actually alive.

“You are,” Sherlock says, and begins outlining his plan.


End file.
